The man turns his head to his boss, as he spits, "Uccidi questa puttana, capofamiglia, o dai l'ordine e lo farò."

Mariano throws him a deadly glare. It's enough for him to pull the gun away, but he doesn't click the safety back on.

Criminal boss turns to me, his eyes glinting with intrigue. "So I assume you recognize him?"

"He was supposed to serve a lifelong sentence."

He nods. "I got him out... looks like your verdicts can be overridden." A smug smirk curls his mouth.

I purse my lips and glare at him. Asshole. Even though his comment is purely for pissing me off, it stings. Throwing salt on the most recent wound Dad has given me.

He'd be furious if he found out one of the Fenice mafia's members was present between the street gang felons, and I didn't recognize him; nor was I able to keep him in a cell. Fucking embarrassing.

"Do you know what he said?" he asks, the stupid smirk still on his stupid face.

"I don't speak Italian," I mutter.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "For someone hunting down the Italians, shouldn't learning their language be your first priority?"

I grind my teeth so hard my jaw aches. The sudden anger blazing in me awakens the urge to somehow shoot him instantly on the spot. I won't even have to spend a year in prison. I'll defend my case, presenting it as self-defense. They're the ones who kidnapped me. The odds favor me. On top of that, the world would be rid of one of the most awful mob bosses of all time.

But my hands are tied. Literally.

"To quote my man, 'kill this bitch, boss, or I'll do it myself.' I must say in your short years of working as a prosecutor, you've managed to gain a fascinating number of enemies." He leans into his chair, speaking lightly as if talking about the latest TV show.

I don't reply and eye the guy with the gun warily.

"Where is the flash drive?" His voice turns business-like, the serious edge returning to it.

"In a safe place."

He scoffs. "You can't imagine the number of people who are after that data. Tell us the place so we can be done with it and send you back to your place."

"I don't help mafias, I bring them down," I look him dead in the eyes. "What makes you think I'll help you?"

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the force.

"Syn," the Russian woman speaks again, moving forward and into the range of light.

She is beautiful. Clad in black from head to toe, her strawberry blond hair is pinned atop her head in a tight bun, aging lines mark around her eyes and mouth. She's probably in her mid-fifties, yet she's regal and beautiful. Her shirt and trousers fit her perfectly; she doesn't seem to have an ounce of extra fat. The fabric strains against her defined muscles. She's not bulky, but it's easy to tell she exercises way more than a woman her age does.

She talks again, but Mariano dude doesn't move his eyes away from me. At last, she stops and after a long moment, he gives a subtle nod and replies in Russian, equally fluent.

A pang of jealousy shoots through me. Being criminal aside, this guy is fluent in three languages. Damn.

"Everyone here wants you dead, Cerise Campbell," he blurts. "My man made a mistake, and I have to ensure it's cleaned up with the least possible damage. You are making it impossibly hard. Wherever you've hidden the flash drive, it'll be in your best interest to hand it over to us before others find it."

I roll my eyes.

Annoyance pinches his features. "You have no idea what you're playing with," he growls, taking me by surprise. "If we don't find it on time, it will cause hundreds of deaths... and it'll be all on you."

I frown with confusion, tilting my head. For the first time, I can't tell if he's telling the truth or messing with my head.

"Syn," the Russian woman snaps warningly, but he holds his hand up, quieting her.

"Believe me, I have no interest in keeping you alive. I'd be more than willing to repay your father's actions in his own language," he bitterly says. The venom dripping from his words confuses me.

Dad has never done anything wrong. He threw one of the Mariano bosses to prison, 240 years of service, that's it. Surely, they know what they're doing is wrong and have to be aware that if they're caught, they'll rot in prison... but where is this fierce loathing coming from? It seems a bit too much.

He goes on, "If you die right now, it'll be on the Marianos and I cannot put my men at the risk of having a prosecutor's death on our hands. In a matter of time, all the other mobs searching for you will discover you're with us, causing another conflict I don't need. However you need to understand, you're only alive because you're the only person who knows the exact location of that flash drive and this matter needs to be solved quickly."

He moves to the edge of his seat, leaning forwards. "The information in that USB can and will cause a war between all the powerful families in our business. The peace treaty we made will be broken and the police will break loose on us. Hundreds will die," he utters the last part slowly, emphasizing each word.

The intensity of his words will have anyone believe him in a heartbeat. For all my life, I've been trained to not believe in a heartbeat.

Although, a war within the mafia might be a good thing if it doesn't breach out and affect the civilians.

But that's a big and risky if. War needs money... they'll need more supply, hence they'll act more fervently to cover up their financial loss. That will definitely affect the innocent people who are completely out of this dirty game of power and money.

He raises his hand and flicks his wrist. Another man hurries out of the shadow, holding out a sharp swiss knife. He cuts the duct tape, freeing my hands.

I rub the raw and red skin of my wrists, eyeing him with suspicion. He's trying to gain my trust.

The man frees my legs too, but I keep my eyes on Mariano.

"I don't have any reason to believe you," I say after the guy with the blade is a good distance away from me.

"You don't," he agrees with me.

"And you're running low on time," I point out, making him arch an eyebrow in question. "I don't know what time it is... but I was supposed to meet a friend of mine, a prosecutor, this evening. He'll notice I'm missing and will report."

He presses his lips into a thin line in annoyance. The Russian lady, who I'm not sure her name is Slava or not, crosses her arms in front of her chest, muttering something under her breath.

"If this drive is capable of starting a war, I'd very much rather give it to the official ranks."

"For an impossible moment if we assume, they're able to crack the code, do you think all these families don't have their people infiltrated there?"

"Why will this data be safe in your hands? What's in it for me if I give it to you? I can wipe you out with that USB. It'll be the golden achievement of my entire career. Why should I hand it to you?"

His nostrils flare, his lips flatten as if wanting to bare his teeth. Heavily breathing, he busies himself with rolling the sleeves of his black button-up, over to his elbows, showcasing the tattoos covering his olive skin. "Portalo," he orders.

I watch with confusion until I spot two men dragging a familiar-looking man. My eyes widen when I realize it's Aaron. His face is covered in black and purple bruises aside from the swelling nose. His lip is torn and swollen, and a faint shadow of redness is smeared beneath his crooked nose.

"Was it this man you got the stick from?" he flatly asks.

Worry grips me. The fact I don't know what the outcome of my answer will be is unsettling me far too much. "I didn't get it from him... he answered his phone and the USB fell from his jacket... I just picked it up."

I study him, trying to find any sort of sign of what might be going on inside his head but it's useless.

He lifts his hand and motions his hand toward Aaron.

Aaron's eyes widen, and he pleads, falling to his knees and begging for forgiveness. A man approaches us, leaner than the bulky guy who held me at gunpoint, and slightly fairer. From the corner of my eye, I catch Slava nodding with approval.

I gawk. The guy pulls out his gun, showing off a tattoo sleeve. Without a beat of hesitance, he shoots Aaron right between his eyebrows.

I gasp as the sound of the gunshot echoes in the huge, vacant room. Aaron falls to the ground, his eyes still wide as life and blood flow out of him.

I cover my mouth, my dazed gaze glued to Aaron's limp body as those two men drag him away, utterly unaffected. A wave of nausea hits me. A beat afterward, icy coldness grips my body like a bucket of iced water has been poured over my head.

"That's the first death on you. You have twenty-four hours to decide and tell me the location of the flash drive. I'm sure you don't want to know who the next person will be." He gets to his feet and strides away.

I stare at his retreating form, still unable to wrap my head around what just happened. My thoughts are all over the place as two men stand in front of me, one of them the same man who shot Aaron, waiting for me.

His words echo in my head, slowly sinking in. Another wave of shock hits me.

❈ ☯︎ ❈

Hmm, I wonder if the people who are reading this story already hate our Mariano mob boss =))))

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this chapter... things are surely getting exciting (I hope, lol)

Vote if you enjoyed. Comment your thoughts on our boss, I love to know what you think of him =)

Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading <3